


How Long it's Been

by TransAlex23



Category: Phan, Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Camping, Car Accident, Chaptered, Character Death, Comfort, Depression, Explicit Language, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Marriage, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Minor Violence, Pastel Dan, PastelxPunk, Punk Phil, Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic episodes, Suicide Notes, Swearing, Tattoos, Therapy, pastel!dan, punk!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-06 06:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10327541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransAlex23/pseuds/TransAlex23
Summary: I was walking the rocky paths of the campground on tremulous legs, trying to clear my head of the voices shouting at me. My eyes were blurry and colours were mixing with sounds. I could see sounds, hear colours, my brain whirling as a sense of synesthesia took over. The wind was only a zephyr, but it felt like enough to pick me up and carry me to Oz. The voices were shouting at me, taking over every sense I had. I felt like I was swimming through a tidal wave, and I would never be able to get out of it. Salt water tears falling down my cheeks, and suddenly I was swimming through memories of him, the tears enhancing the stinging pain of his presence, and I don't think I can ever forget that feeling.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

I was walking the rocky paths of the campground on tremulous legs, trying to clear my head of the voices shouting at me. My eyes were blurry and colours were mixing with sounds. I could see sounds, hear colours, my brain whirling as a sense of synesthesia took over. The wind was only a zephyr, but it felt like enough to pick me up and carry me to Oz. The voices were shouting at me, taking over every sense I had. I felt like I was swimming through a tidal wave, and I would never be able to get out of it. Salt water tears falling down my cheeks, and suddenly I was swimming through memories of him, the tears enhancing the stinging pain of his presence, and I don’t think I can ever forget that feeling. 

 

“Daniel! We need to leave, get down here,” my mum’s mellifluous voice called from the lounge. I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror, not fully satisfied with the flat state my artificially red hair was in. My chestnut eyes were guarded by thick eyelashes, my ears pierced with small silver stars. I turned, picking up my black suitcase and phone, and proceeded to head down the beige carpeted stairs with great difficulty. I remembered when I was a bit younger and tried sledding down them, resulting in a late night trip to A&E. 

“Woah, taking your whole bedroom with you?” Dan joked, gesturing to my large suitcase that was practically bursting open with how much stuff was in it. After ten years, I still wasn’t used to hearing their American accents. I was born in Britain, there until I was six, and then taken here to America to get set up for adoption. I didn’t get what adoption was until I was eleven, when my friend told me kids whose parents don’t love them get dropped off at a building with other unloved kids. 

“Come on, guys, we’ve gotta get moving,” mum said, leading the dog into the car.

“Why are we doing this?” I asked dad as we left the house, dragging my suitcase behind me as if it was filled with rocks, the handle stretched as far as it would go and my arm also detached from my shoulder. 

“Well, your mom wants to get us away from the house for a while and get us closer as a family,” he explained, putting the last of our stuff into the vehicle. Yeah, my mum was pulling the whole ‘camping-trip-to-get-us-closer-together’ thing. My mum looked like any typical housewife. She had tame blond hair and a thin form, clad in blouses and skirts or tight jeans. She prepared every meal as if it were for the queen, always finding elaborate new dishes. My dad was a typical business man, gone most nights until late and always going on business trips. He mostly wore suits, but when he wasn't it was a casual button up and khakis. His eyes usually held contacts, but today his grey eyes were hidden behind his small rectangle frames.

But, they were like any kind of loving family, always having family game nights and making us share the best part of our day. They weren’t snooty rich people, but we frequently hosted prestigious parties with expensive wine and exquisite French orderves. So why my mum had chose something as low as camping to bring us together, I would never know. 

“Alright, let’s go,” dad said, closing the trunk, having mum already in the car and me trailing not far behind. I wasn’t too up to camping, having been brought up in a quite wealthy environment. My life here had been full of six bedroom houses, dinner parties with expensive bottles of fancy wine, and prestigious private schools. The whole idea of dirt and bugs and ‘fresh air’ contradicted my squeaky clean persona. But soon I was lugged into the expensive grey van and off to a place I didn’t want to go to. 

 

“Alright, gang, here we are,” dad announced as out tires left asphalt and hit bumpy rocks and dirt. I sighed, not looking forward to this weekend. Mum bought me nice new sneakers to break in during the trip as an attempt to make me feel better. They were black with some electric blue accenting, the two colors being my favourite. Dad checked us in and brought is to our sight, 469. Unpacking the camper was a hassle, as none of us had ever even been in one, but it was done eventually. It took almost two hours to get everything set up absolutely perfect to mum’s accord. By that time mum was reclining in the camper, her sweet pomeranian curled up in her lap as she read her new Stephen King novel. Dad was preparing the grill, as if he knew how, and I knew this was going to be a long and lonely weekend. I decided to wave myself off and try to find something exciting about this dreadful place.

The sky seemed to reflect my mood as I dragged my feet, slowly fading and becoming more bleak. The rocks were poking at my feet like tiny knives through my shoes, making them ache with every step. The grounds were primarily uninhabited, making the scene like one in a movie, surrounded by trees in the dead of night, silent save for the whispering winds. The abandoned state was disturbed by a group of frat boys around a blazing fire. Their laughter boomed like thunder and made me uneasy; that mixed with their stumbling figures about made it evident that they were hammered. I kept as far from them as I could, keeping my head down and music up. 

Twenty minutes and four MCR songs later and I hadn’t found anything worth being here over. All I’d found was a lady swimming with all her clothes on- meaning jeans, shirt, shoes,  _ everything _ \- and a man dancing with a tree. I wasn’t sure what the tree had done to deserve that, but I felt bad for it. It may have had crippled bark and barely any leaves, but it didn’t deserve such poor treatment. 

I came to an area of lush grass and nonexistent stones, bringing my feet pleasure. It was a small area, occupied by a swing set, teeter-totter, a sandbox, and a slide. It was a playground, typical for a family campground. The metal poles holding up the swings and slide were tarnished and rusted, clearly unsteady and therefore unsafe. I found myself on the sunshine yellow slide, the plastic cool on my back. I closed my eyes and let the smooth voices of ‘Cancer’ overtake me. I felt like all my sense were strengthened. I could feel every blade of grass underneath my sneakers, smell the campground air, a mix of smoke and soil, and feel the cool air in my nose, traveling throughout my entire body. 

Despite the dim light due to the dwindling hour, behind my closed eyes I noticed the light get blocked by something. I opened my eyes to be met with two others, the pupils almost matching the vibrant blue of my sneakers. The sight made me jump, earning a laugh from the owner of the ocean eyes. I followed this laugh to a mouth, possessing soft and full lips that hid slightly yellowing teeth. 

“Hey,” the mouth spoke with a slightly southern accent. The voice was soft and sounded like one that belonged to a kid that always sat in the back of the class.  

“U-um, hi,” I responded. 

“Woah! You’re l-like, British or whatever!” There it is. Whenever I meet someone American for the first time, they always make an aberration out of the situation, while I never understood it. What’s so great about it? They have accents too, and I’m not fantasising over their accents. My speaking wasn’t colloquial like most, as I was well educated and punctual, but was that means for obsession over it?

“Um, yeah,” I said strangely.

The stranger finally moved back, allowing me to get a better look at his full figure. His hair was black as a raven, fringe straightened and to the right, the opposite of mine. He was tall- over six foot- and slender, his body clad in skin tight black jeans and a  _ very _ well fitting MCR shirt. His eyes were oceans, shielded by his eyelids and reflecting the dim moonlight. He was muscular, but not so much so that I could articulate every curve and crevice of his form. He was so tall his head stretched into space. His legs weren’t quite proportional to his torso, resembling a giraffe. But he was so much better than a giraffe. His features were soft and contradicted the personality he plastered on his body. He was beau- talking.  _ Oh god, he’s talking.  _

“- and you’re k-kinda cute, so I thought, ‘what the heck,’” he said, seeming like he was rambling to himself.  

“Uh- come again?” He gave me an angry look before repeating himself.  _ Why did he seem so mad? _

“I said, you looked lonely, and I think you’re cute, so I thought I’d say hi,” he simplified. I nodded, to which he chuckled and outstretched his hand. After a moment I decided to take it, watching his biceps flex as his strong arms pulled me up from the slide. 

“Thanks,” I said meekly.

“No problem,” he said. “So, what’s your name, pastel boy?”  _ And here we go with the jokes for wearing pastel clothes.  _

“Hey, guys can wear pastel stuff too, it’s not just-”

“Woah, calm down. I know, I was just poking fun. You look really good in pastel purple,” he said, taking a step closer to me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him closer, but I stayed put anyway. 

“So, what’s your name?” he questioned again. 

“D-Dan,” I said.  _ Curse my nervous stutter.  _

“Hm, that’s cute. I’m Phil.” He extended his hand, this time to shake. I obliged awkwardly, and there was a moment of silence before he turned and started walking off. After a few steps he turned back to me, jerking his head. 

“You coming?” He called, a smirk on his face. I nodded and ran to catch up. 

“So, how old are you?” he questioned. 

“Seventeen. What about you?” I said, fiddling with the hem of my sweater in a nervous manor. 

“Eighteen. When did you start wearing pastel clothes?” 

“What is this, twenty questions?” I laughed, coming out of my pathetic crab shell a bit. 

“Yes, now answer me.” I knew he was only trying to joke and have fun, but something in his voice was genuinely dominant and frightening. I could hear the assertive state in his voice, and I didn’t hesitate to obey him.

“Um, when I was thirteen. My mum saw a pastel jumper in a shop and said it was cute. I agreed and she joked that I should get it, so I did. I don’t wear them everyday, but I do love them,” I answered. “When did you start piercing and inking your body?” I asked, talking about his lip, ear, and eyebrow piercings, along with his wrist and bicep tattoos. 

“Got the piercings at sixteen, tattoos on my eighteenth birthday.” He showed off the skull and crossbones on his right wrist, the smiley face with ‘x’s’ for eyes on his left wrist, and the dragon on his bicep. 

“Wow,” was all I could muster.  _ Idiot. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I've missed you ^-^ How are you doing? Eating okay? Staying hydrated? I hope it's going well for you- meaning your are physically and mentally okay, and that your relationships with your family, friends, spouse, etc. are going okay as well. 
> 
> So yeah, I've got a new fic :P I actually wrote part of this story for an assignment in English, but decided to make it a phanfic and continue it. So, in that case, of there are any mistake where I have the wrong name/description, I'm really sorry, I must have missed it when I switched stuff around. 
> 
> Okay so this is important- This story is a lot. There is a lot of talk of schizophrenia and anxiety and just mental disorders in general. 1) If any of that might trigger you/make you uncomfortable, please don't read this. I just want you to stay safe, so please look after yourself. 2) I do not mean offense to anyone. I do not know an excessive amount about schizophrenia, but I did do research for this story. I have written this with the information I gathered form the research. If I got anything wrong, please let me know and I will be happy to correct it :)
> 
> Question of the day- (I don't promise to do this every time, sorry, but let's try :P) Do you play any instruments?  
> I absolutely love playing/listening to music. I play viola in orchestra and saxophone in marching band. I love a lot of different types of music, and I love listening to it, so let me know if you play anything. I also absolutely love watching people play piano, it's just... Amazing. 
> 
> okay, well that's all I have for this chapter. just remember to take care of yourself. You are the most important person/thing in your life. You deserve to be okay. You can feel good about yourself, it won't make you narcissistic. It won't make you full of yourself. There is a difference between being a narcissist and having confidence. Even if that self love is just in the fact that you like the shoes you're wearing, or how your shirt looks, that's okay; that's good. As long as you can have some kind of self love and self confidence. And remember that I love you, no matter who you are. I don't need to know you. I don't need to know your ethnicity, your sexuality, your gender, or anything to know that you are a person worthy of everything, and you deserve happiness and love. 
> 
> So, I love you, thank you so much, and, until next time, goodbye! ^-^


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

There weren’t many people where we had ventured to, and most of which were in tents. There was one older couple sat in reclining chairs around a flickering sunset fire. The reds, oranges, and yellows mixed perfectly to resemble the setting sun behind them. I looked ahead of us, where the rock change into short, dying grass, crunching and cracking under my feet. Above us were looming trees, taller than I’d ever seen, resembling the type in horror movies- void of leaves with long, thin branches. I was walking behind Phil now, and it gave me time to check him out more. I could see his back muscles through his shirt, which complimented his form  _ perfectly.  _ His legs were slender and long, gapped only slightly but just enough, and his tight shirt showed of the curve of his hips. I felt a penchant towards him that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but it was strong and tugged at my heart like there was a lasso around it. 

“Well, here we are,” he said, sticking his hands in his back pockets. I looked up to see a tree towering higher than all the rest. It’s circumference was the size of a typical lounge, towering at least ten stories. The roots tore through the ground, looking like wooden octopus tentacles, planting the tree firmly. 

“Woah,” I managed, making him chuckle. “Ever climb to the top?” I asked, though it was mostly a joke. 

“I tried. Probably would’ve made it if I hadn’t fallen and had my- my uh, mental problem,” he said, saying the last part quietly. 

“Mental prob-”

“Let’s go sit and chat,” he interrupted. All of his words seemed so impulsive and unthought of. He had a strange persona to him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like he was in one mind set and then another. I simply nodded and we sat in the leaves with our back to the rough bark. We were absorbed in a sunset scene, breathing in reds and yellows to breath out mixed oranges. 

“Tell me about yourself,” I said out of the blue. He smirked, seeming pleased with how I’d come out of my shell a bit. 

“Well, I’m adopted, an-”

“I’m adopted too!” I shouted. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve just never met anyone else who was adopted,” I apologised. 

“It’s rude to interrupt,” he said, shooting a quick and irritated look before becoming himself and continuing. “But my adoptive parents are awful. They don’t even get what it’s like to be adopted. They always expect me to call them mom and dad, but they’re not my parents. It’s awful, you know?” He seemed so genuinely angry that these people had adopted him like he would have rather been left at the orphanage. The truth was, I didn’t know. I had no clue what he was on about. My parents were the complete opposite- they understood what I had been through, and understood these weren’t ideal conditions for me- and I loved them. But before I could even filter my words, I said, “yeah, I totally get it.”  _ Lie number one.  _

“Finally! Someone who agrees with me. Every other adopted kid is a rich, stuck up brat that loves their parents more than anything.” I felt my heart break and my blood turn cold.  _ I’m like that, aren’t I? _

“But anyway, I’m adopted. Mom dumped me when I was five, and I didn’t get adopted until I was nine. Life was pretty uneventful until I was fifteen and fell out of this tree. Got lots of broken bones, and it was a miracle I hadn’t died. But, while I was in the hospital getting treated for brain damage, they figured out I had a mental illness- schizophrenia. Couldn’t sleep- got only a few hours every week. Couldn’t trust anyone, not even my parents. Started hearing voices, telling me to do bad things. I’d have episodes where I’d cry and scream. It got so bad I was sent to a mental hospital. So, I’m officially crazy.” He so spoke so casually and fluently, like it was normal. For him, I guess it was. He had me so shocked I couldn’t speak, making him laugh.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad anymore. Therapy and a ton of meds goes a long way to set your brain straight. Though I’ve got trust issues sometimes and sometimes still hear voices.” It was hard to tell if he was joking. His entire mood seemed to change so suddenly, his brain in one mindset and then another in the time it took me to blink. 

“S-so, um,” I was afraid to ask what I wanted to know, out of fear I would upset or offend him, or I wouldn’t like what I heard. “W-what do the voices say?”

“They don’t tell me to kill people, if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s like my mind is constantly driving, but with someone else as the driver. It’s like an imaginary friend constantly telling me what to do. Sometimes I see stuff, like people that aren’t real.” He stared off for a moment, as if reminiscing on what it’s like.  “I wasn’t sure if you were real, but you’re way too cute to be made up in my head,” he said, smirking again. It was unimaginable how he could make a joke out of something so serious and real. 

“Have you heard them since we’ve been hangin out?” He nodded. “What have they said?” 

“To kiss you.” He said it without hesitation. “Though, I’m not sure if that’s them or just me,” he said with a smirk. “Hey, let’s get heading back.” He seemed to change the subject quickly, and I wasn’t sure if I had crossed a line or if it was just his nature. Nonetheless, I nodded and we began the short trek back to the camp. After a couple minutes of walking, I felt something touch my hands. I looked down to see Phil threading his pale fingers between mine. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but I let him keep it there. His hand was strong, but soft and caring. We continued to walk hand in hand out of the woods, the words we said there left to be unspoken and undiscovered. I watched Chris as he seemed to slip out of reality, staring straight ahead with a dull look. 

“Want to hang out at your site?” He asked out of the blue. I was about to say yes before I remembered-  _ I’m supposed to hate my parents. He can’t know the truth. _

“Um, I don’t think so,” I started. “My parents hate when I bring people around, and they certainly wouldn’t be fond of, well, this,” I said, gesturing to our intertwined hands.  _ Lie number two. _

“Dang, mine too. Adoptive parents suck,” he said, kicking at the rocks. 

“I know, right.”

“Like my adoptive parents act like my birth parents never even existed. I’d rather have my irresponsible birth mom than these guys,” he said, ranting a bit. 

“Yeah…” I agreed, trying to keep playing the part of “relatable orphan.”

“You know, I’ve thought about running away. I don’t know if it was the voices or my conscious mind, but I’ve thought about it. And when I had really bad episodes, the voices told me to kill them,” his eyes reflecting the memory. I looked at him with wide eyes. _ Is he serious? _

“Kidding,” he laughed, noticing my nervous state. But a second later I heard him whisper, “not,” under his breath. 

“So, uh, what should we do?”

“How about we head to the park I found you at?”

“Aw, the place we met,” I cooed. He shook his head but smiled, leading us back to the playground, still seeming desolate of life. But as we got closer, I changed my mind. Walking through the playground was a thin blond woman and a tall brunet man. Also known as my parents. 

“U-um, hey, Phil, let’s head somewhere else,” I said, trying to steer him away. 

“Why? Come on, let’s go.” I sighed and went rigid as I made eye contact with my parents, and they smiled and headed toward us. I closed my eyes tight, only for a moment, trying to imagine myself out of this; trying to wake myself up from the nightmare this was becoming. But when I opened my eyes, everything was as it was when I closed them. 

“Who are those people?” Phil said with a laugh, talking about my parents. 

“No clue,” I said.  _ Lie number three; I’m out.  _

“Hey, honey!” my mum cooed, coming up to hug me, tearing me away from Phil. “Oh, who’s this?” She asked, gesturing to Phil. 

“I could ask the same thing,” Phil said with a dominant and almost jealous attitude, crossing his arms assertively over his chest. 

“U-um, mum, this is Phil. Phil, this is, uh, my mum,” I said quietly, wishing I could disappear. 

“Oh, why didn’t you invite him over?” mum fussed. The look Phil gave me was menacing, and I knew I was in trouble. His trimmed brows were furrowed and his hands were in fists. Just looking at him made me feel like I was being beat up, and I didn’t want to think about what he was going to do to me. 

“I- just didn’t cross my mind, I guess,” I lied. Phil was steaming now, his skin turning red and doubtlessly hot at the touch. 

“Um, yeah, can I talk to Phil? We’ll meet you at the sight,” I said, trying to get them away.

“Okay, see you soon,” she said before walking off with my dad. 

“What the heck, Dan?” Phil shouted, obviously livid. 

“Phil, I- I can explain-”

“No, there’s nothing to explain. You lied to me.” He was shouting now, his electric blue eyes storming with a hurricane. “You lied to me, so badly. I thought you understood. I thought we connected. I thought I  _ finally _ had someone who understood!” I could see his storming eyes, feel his heated skin, hear his heart beating quicker and quicker. 

“Pihl, please,” I panicked. “I-”

“Shut up!” he yelled, slapping me hard. I knew my cheek would be blazing red, as I was on the ground with my hand on my cheek. I knew I was weak, but he was way too strong for me to handle, whether I tried to fight back or not. There were tears brimming in my eyes, but I blinked them away furiously. 

“Phil, please, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?” He shouted, taking his foot and driving it hard into my side, and I could feel the bruise being created. 

“You lied to me!” He shouted, kicking me over and over. “I will never forgive you,” he said. With a final kick to the head, all I could see was black, the last thing I heard being my own fading scream. 

 

* * *

 

 

Now I was walking the rocky paths of the campground with shaking legs, trying to clear my head of the voices shouting at me. My eyes were blurry and colours were mixing with sounds. I could see sounds, hear colours, and my brain was whirling. The wind was only a zephyr, but it felt like enough to pick me up and twirl me to Oz. The voices were shouting at me, taking over every sense I had. I felt like I was swimming through a tidal wave, and I would never be able to get out of it. 

_ Kill him.  _

No.

_ Yes, he lied.  _

No.

_ You shouldn’t have done it.  _

I know.

_ But you did.  _

I know.

_ Why? _

I don’t know. 

_ Because he lied to you; he deserved it.  _

Did he?

_ Yes. He did a bad thing, but so did you.  _

What did I do?

_ You told him your secret. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone. Now he’s going to tell people, and soon everyone will know your secret.  _

Shut up.

_ Why? You can’t get rid of me. I’ll be here forever.  _

I sat down in the grass, knees to my chest and head in my hands, wishing I could erase everything that just happened. 

_ Are you going to cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Too bad. It’s his fault- he did it.  _

“He didn’t do it, he didn’t do it,” I said through choked sobs. I laid back and let the fear and voices overtake me in the smooth white moonlight. 

_ Goodnight, Dan. _

 

 

[The Nicest Place on the Internet](http://thenicestplaceontheinter.net/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! For starters, I am so so so sorry for taking this long to get more of this story updated... I haven't had the best week but I shouldn't have let that get in the way of my writing, so I apologize. I hope you've been good and even better since last time :) What's going on in your life? Any new pets, new siblings? Any new friends or reunions with old ones? No matter what has happened, I hope you're doing okay. And okay doesn't have to mean happy. Okay means satisfactory. Okay can mean crying and screaming and things falling, but being able to dry your tears and picking up broken pieces. The most important part of falling is picking yourself back up. 
> 
> Self-care and self-love can be very hard to come by, but are so very important, especially when things are going bad. So, in case you are having a hard time loving yourself, know that my love for you is worth an infinite amount of trips to the moon and back <3 And if you need a little more convincing, god to this website- http://thenicestplaceontheinter.net/ (I will link it at the end of the fic :)) This website helps me so so much when I feel down, and has brought me to tears because it is just so nice and helps so much. So, even if you're not down, but especially if you are, I encourage you to go to that site :)
> 
> So there's my help for the day :P I really hope I can help someone out there. Even if it's just bringing the slightest smile to your face for the smallest amount of time, that would mean so much to me. I absolutely love making people happy and smile, and I hope I can help you to forget about everything for a moment and help you smile. So smile- it looks good on you :)
> 
> Remember- Deep breaths and happy thoughts, and everything is going to be okay. I love you, tank you so so much, and goodbye! ^-^


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

“H-he didn’t, he d-didn’t do it! He didn’t do it!” It’s been fifteen minutes since my mum ran into my room to see me huddled in the corner, fingers knotted in my hair as I screamed profanities and the same phrase over and over. 

“He didn’t do it! It was my fault, he didn’t do it!”

“Dan, Dan listen to me,” my mum pleaded. I heard, but I didn’t see her. I saw him, and his ocean eyes. I was drowning, suffocating. I could only see the dream replaying in my head, over and over, as his voice got louder, telling me lies.

“Dan, you need to look at me. Listen; Take deep breaths- in- 2- 3- 4- out- 2- 3- 4. Keep going.” I was having trouble breathing, seeing, hearing,  _ living.  _

“Dan, listen to me. Breath in- and out.” She kept repeating numbers and words, my mind jumbling them up into a mess of letters and syllables. After over thirty long minutes of breathing and trying to calm down, I was reduced to quiet crying, tears streaming down my face like raindrops on a window. 

“Dan, you need to tell me what’s wrong. What happened?” My mum pleaded, her voice laced with worry.

“I- he didn’t do it. He didn’t do it, i- it was my f-fault.”

“What? Dan, what are you talking about?”

“I- I told him, now everyone knows. He’d going to tell everyone,” I said. Deep inside I knew it was irrational, but the voices kept saying it, and soon I believed it to be true. 

“Dan, what are you talking about?”

“H- he hates me now. No, I hate him.” I was so confused, lost in my own thoughts. I buried my head in my hands. 

“Dan, listen. It’s not real, none of it is real. You’re just reliving it, it’s all in your head, and it will go away if you want it to.” I nodded, trying to clear my mind of the memories. I knew it was illusory, but it always feels so real. Whenever I imagined it, relieved it, I switched places with Phil. We looked like ourselves- him a hot punk and me an edgey five year old- but everything else switched. All our history, all our thoughts, our lives, everything. It was like if I imagined it like that, it would be true. But it wasn’t. I was the schizophrenic one. I was the one that couldn’t trust him, but spilled my secret. I was the one who went to  a mental hospital, and was about to go back if I kept getting worse. 

It’s been a week since I slept properly, a week since I’ve eaten well. It’s been zero days since my last episode, and sero seconds since I thought about him. My encounter with him had exacerbated my condition. Though the thoughts of him plaguing my mind had surely made my mental state worsen, his memory brought mixed feelings of affinity and aversion. Phil was just a normal guy, and I spilled my secret to him- my entire history and meaning- only to try to beat it back out. 

“Dan, are you going to be okay?” I had stopped crying, left with tear stained cheeks and memories burning through my mind. I nodded, very hesitantly. “Okay, good. I’m going to schedule an appointment with Dr.Kim for tomorrow, okay?” Yay, Dr.Kim, my therapist. I only had to do once a week sessions with him, but something tells me I’ll be seeing more of him. I nodded and my mum led me to my bed, where I laid in silence for a moment. 

Despite my poor memory, I could remember my first episode vividly. I’d just turned fourteen, and I was home alone. I’d been stressing out about school all week, and my anxiety was through the roof. It started out slowly throughout the week; little whispering voices every now and then, until they were almost shouting. I was becoming detached from reality, and I couldn’t tell real from imaginary. It was a Friday night when I broke down. No one was there to help me. It became too much and I broke down crying. My vision was unclear, and I felt like I was trapped. The pain in my chest grew, permeating through me. I heard voices shouting at me, screaming.  _ Stupid. Idiot. Die. Die. DIE. What are you doing, crying like a sissy? Come on, stop crying. Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ I screamed a blood curdling scream.  It was too much, and they just kept yelling.The whole experience was a pandemonium.  

It took me two hours to calm myself down, and even then I’d only diminished myself to a shaky mess, silent tears still streaming down my cheeks. The voices were a whisper then, hardly noticeable. I’d cleaned myself up- extremely slow and hesitantly- and gone to bed like nothing had happened. I didn’t tell my parents. I’d thought I'd only had some kind of breakdown from the stress. It wasn’t until I was in the hospital for falling out of the tree that I had an extreme episode that got me sent to the psychiatric wing. Then everything started spiraling out of control. 

 

“Hello, Daniel. How are you today?” Dr.Kin addressed me in his subtle southern accent as I entered his room. He was a nice guy, but his room was revolting- yellow walls with crimson trim and black furniture. It looked like a pediatrician and a goth designer decided to get together to create a room. I simply shrugged and sat down, not in the mood to talk. Usually I was pretty casual and open with Dr.Kim, but I wasn’t up for it today. 

“I see. Well, your mother informed me that you had a bit of an episode last night Would you like to tell me about it?” I shook my head immediately, not wanting to reminisce about what had happened. 

“That’s alright, when you’re ready. Are you still taking your medication?” I nodded. “That’s good. Would this little… outburst, have anything to do with the events of last week?” I nodded hesitantly. I had told him about my dreams when I remembered it, wanting answers. ““You seem to remain in your physical form, but you and Phil switch mental properties. So instead of being schizophrenic and anxious with your history of being in a mental hospital, you see yourself as a pretty normal, adopted guy. This could be caused by a longing to not have a mental illness, to be normal.””

“Y-yeah…”

“Dan, after what happened last week, and this recent episode… I think it would be best for you visit the psychiatric hospital again. Your condition has worsened, and I don’t think you are in a safe state of mind.” I couldn’t hear him properly anymore. I drowned him out and went back to thinking about Phil. I remembered when I was in the hospital.

_ Wow, Dan. So screwed up you have to go to a mental hospital again. Most people don’t even have to go once, but you’re so messed up you have to go twice, _ I heard his voice laughing at me. The room was spinning, the only thing still and sure being his voice.

“N-no I don’t. I-I’m b-better. I-I’m better!” I shouted.

_ No you’re not. You’re batshit crazy and you know it, _ his voice said. 

“N-no I-I’m n-n-not!” I said. I was crying now, my salt water tears reminding me of his ocean eyes. The memory only made me cry and scream more. I felt hands grab my arms and soon I was on the floor, the carpet scratching my neck. Another set of hands took my legs as I continued to thrash around aimlessly. I wasn’t sure what I was doing or why; it was like my mind had no control over my body, and it was left to thrash and writhe on the ground like a fish out of water. Then I felt a pinch in the crease of my elbow. Soon everything was fading to black as my crying stopped and body stilled. Everything was quiet and I felt, for the first time in a long time, at peace. _ Zero days since my last episode. _

 

* * *

 

Bright lights and heart beat beeping, I knew exactly where I was. I looked to see the walls were white, decorated with a brown line under a blue one. It was different to the one I had last time, this one not having a T.V. or a good view. There was an IV in my right elbow crease, and I was glad I wasn’t awake when it was put there. The last time I was here I was awake for it, and I passed out. The heart monitor was beating steadily, as I was strangely content. There was something about being in the hospital that felt familiar and homey, and it made me feel a little peaceful. 

This was of course ruined when a nurse came into my room. She was one of the nice ones, hair short and curled and makeup done light but perfectly. She seemed happy with her job, which was a sign I was in good hands, as she would actually care about my well-being. 

“Hello, Dan. I’m nurse Emma, and I’ll be keeping an eye on you during your stay. How are you feeling?” Her voice was like silk, smooth and warm, her icy green eyes contradicting it. 

“Mentally or physically?” I knew I sounded like a smartass, but I couldn’t help it.

“Both,” she said, not seeming to mind or even notice my attitude. 

“U-um, fine,” I said. She didn’t seem satisfied but nodded anyway, writing something down on her clipboard. 

“You’ll have to be here for at least five days, and we won’t keep you for over thirty,” she said, explaining things I already knew from my last stay. 

“Is there anything I can get you?” she asked kindly. 

“Out of here?” I questioned. Though I did like the homey feel of being in the hospital, I didn’t like the idea of it. I always had people watching me, trying to make sure I wouldn’t do anything. The nurses always watched two types of people the closest- the depressed or schizophrenic people. I was both, so I had eyes on me at all times. 

“Sorry babe,” she started, and I cringed at the inappropriate use of the word, “you aren’t permitted to leave yet. Five days at least. I know it’s not too fun, but don’t worry, it’ll be worth it. Schizophrenia may not be curable, but we can get your brain set a bit straighter,” she explained. I nodded and she smiled, leaving me with my thoughts- oh, what a mistake that was. 

Lunch has always been my least favourite meal. It throws itself in the middle of the day and demands I put the rest of my day on hold for it. The last time I had a proper lunch was the last time I was in the hospital, and even then it took them three days to get me to eat a lunch. I’ve never seen any actual value to such an impeccably unimportant repast, usually ignoring its existence entirely. 

“Dan, it’s time for lunch,” nurse Emma said as she entered my room. The nurses allowed me to eat my lunch in my room as, though I do not have any kind of eating disorder, I get extremely uncomfortable eating around other people. They say it has to do with my anxiety, but I just perceive it as another flaw of mine. 

“Thanks,” I said as she set the tray down, leaving the room with a smile. _ Why does she have to smile all the time? What is there to be so happy about? _ As I did not have an eating disorder, I didn’t get any kind of special food. I got the same as the other people in the cafeteria, which today wasn’t too bad. On the tray was a ‘sunbutter’ and jelly sandwich- sunbutter because of peanut allergies- a small bowl of grapes, a chocolate chip cookie, and a water. I sighed, plopping a grape in my mouth and returning to my thoughts. 

Death is inevitable, this being an unavoidable fact of life. I have twenty-four hours in a day, in which  _ at least _ nine of are spent sleeping. Then, say, an hour for breakfast, as it gives you necessary energy and such for the day. Also, at least an hour for dinner, helping to keep the hunger down during the night. All that leaves is thirteen hours in my day. Add on my six hours of online classes, though I’m almost finished with them, and an occasional hour of therapy, and now I’ve only got six hours in my day. And with only six spare hours, you are expecting me to set aside an entire hour, or even half of one, for a lousy, unimportant little meal in the middle of my day? I don’t think so. If I spent an entire hour everyday eating lunch, I would waste 365 hours of my life away, that of which I could spend doing something far more interesting and productive; maybe even life changing.. So yes, lunch? Not important. 

It’s been three days and still no sign of leaving any time soon. I had a bit of an episode last night after my therapy session, consisting of me hallucinating Phil- of course- and screaming; lots and lots of screaming. I’m pretty sure I can still hear my voice echoing down the halls the same way his voice is echoing through my head. I look down to see my hands shaking, and I hold them close to my chest to try to make them stop.  _ Stop, stop, stop, _ I thought. 

_ Stop what? _

Oh no.

_ Oh, yes. _

Please leave.

_ Why should I? I get such a kick out of seeing the way your eyes blur and hands tremble when I show up. _

Why are you here?

_ I like you, Daniel. You’re oh so fun to talk to.  _

All you do is torment me.

_ Yes, and it’s quite fun. _

Not for me.

_ Because you’re crazy. You’re a lunatic, that’s why you’re here. _

No it’s not.

_ Oh, that’s right; it’s because of him. _

Don’t talk about him. 

My fists clenched and eyes watered.

_ Ooh, that sure got a reaction out of you. What if I said his name.  _

“Don’t…”

_ Phil.  _

_ “Shut up!”  _ I screamed, sending my dinner tray crashing to the floor. Through ocean tears that reminded me too much of him, I watched nurses storm into my room. They tried to get me to calm down and breathe, but it was so hard. My breathing was so sporadic and staggered in all the commotion that I couldn’t keep up, and I soon found myself fading into black. Zero days since my last episode.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo :P I think this chapter was a bit shorter than the others, but oh well. I've had an awful last couple of days, so forgive me if I can't be as cheering- I'm trying for you guys :) I've just been in a really bad head space, but I know it will pass soon enough. I think the one good thing that has come out of this past week was seeing my cousin. She almost killed herself last month and I haven't seen her since. We're so close and I was so happy to see her, so it made me feel a bit better. But. my bitter mood isn't going to stop me form wishing you a good day :)
> 
> Fun fact- every 11:11 wish i make is always for you; for you to be okay. It's for everyone to just be okay. For everything to end, and for burdens to be lifted and grief vanished. I would take away the burden of everyone if I could. I would give up every ounce of my existence, down to the smallest knowledge that I was ever here, for everyone to just be okay. For everyone to be able to smile and not worry about what others will think, or for people to not have to through so much pain. And I just wish it would be that easy...
> 
> What's your greatest wish? The one thing you absolutely need, whether it be love or that car you really like or those shoes you just have to have. Mine would be happiness- serenity. For everything to be okay. And not just for me, but for those around me. Basically world peace, but not quite. Not so much peace, but serenity. 
> 
> I rant too much- tell me more about you. Favourite ship? Favourite Phanfic? Favourite food? Tell me anything. Tell me what you had for breakfast and I'll still think it's the most fascinating thing in the world. I love listening to people talk, so it would be in absolutely no way a burden for you to just say "Hey, lions are cool. Also, ..." So don't e shy if you ever want to talk about anything or everything.
> 
> Remember- Deep breaths, happy thoughts, and everything will be okay. I love you, thank you so much, and, until next time you beautiful soul, goodbye! ^-^


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

It’s been five days. I thought I would be out now, but my episodes have delayed my leaving. It’s been two days since my last episode, and nurse Emma said if I keep it up, I could be out of here in a couple days. And though I like the homey feel of the hospital, I felt like such a little kid in the sense that I am constantly watched and treated like I can't do anything myself. I felt incarcerated in my own mind, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to end up crazier than I was when I got here. 

But my least favourite thing had to be family visits. My mum and dad have visited everyday now, and all my mum does is cry. I tell her it’s only temporary, and I’ll be out soon, but she doesn’t stop. My dad tries to calm her down while he asks how I’m doing, and that’s all that’s happens. It happened today, and I was as close as the hare was to the finish line to asking them to leave and not come back until mum had stopped crying; but I think that was just the voices. 

 

* * *

 

 

Night came, the glowing stars almost nonexistent and moon a fading crescent. It was well past lights out and my mind was still racing. I couldn’t get him out of my head. I was drowning in the thought of his ocean eyes, sinking deeper and deeper in the thought of him. I found myself crawling out of bed and out of my room without a clue where I was going. My feet led me lightly and quietly to the psychiatric waiting room, and for a moment I didn’t know what I was doing there. Then I was them, in water that was so clear it looked like there was none there, held in a tank on a black pedestal. They were all different colours, though mostly shades of blue and yellow. They weren’t as big as bass or as small as guppies, but a perfect middle ground. There had to have been at least fifteen in the tank, swimming freely among fake seaweed and rocks. I took a seat in one of the poorly cushioned chairs that were right in front of the tank. I sat backwards with my head in my hands, mesmerized by their fluent movements. 

The psychiatric wing was always under populated, and there was very rarely anyone here at night. It was peaceful, and I felt my eyes start to flutter like delicate butterfly wings as I was entranced in the screensaver-like image in front of me. 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been eight days. I’d be getting out today if it wasn’t for my ‘late night adventure’ a few days ago. They think it had something to do with my mental state, and I tried to tell them it wasn’t, but they don’t listen. Who would?

Now I’m at my last therapy session. Well, my last session at the hospital. After I get out tomorrow I’ll be seeing Dr.Kim twice a week instead of once. I entered the therapy room, which I like a lot more than Dr.Kim’s. This one had crimson walls, a white trim, and black leather furniture. It still wasn’t the most attractive, but it was much better than Dr.Kim’s. I sat down on the chafing leather couch that was across from the chair for Dr.Byatt, the hospital therapist. She was more irritable than Dr.Kim. She tapped her pen restlessly when I didn’t answer quick enough, and snapped at me when I wasn’t clear with my words. I wasn’t sure how anyone could get better with her as their therapist. 

“Hello, Dan,” she said in her dull voice as she entered the room. She was tall and slim, her body covered with a blouse and blazer over a pencil skirt. She wore tights and heels, her hair a dark brown and held in a tight bun, flyaways stuck down with hairspray that glistened in the artificial light. She looked like a principal that everyone would run from, as she held herself confidently and had perfect posture and manicured nails that could cut through flesh with a single movement.  _ No wonder she’s not married, _ I thought as I saw her ringless finger. 

“How are we doing today?” Another odd thing about her was that she tended to say ‘we’ instead of ‘you,’ so it was like she was addressing the both of us instead of just me. 

“O-okay,” I said. 

“Good.” She said her words firm and confidently, and I could tell she was one that always thought she was right. “Now, I believe if today goes well, you’ll be able to leave tomorrow,” she explained, to which I just nodded. 

“Have you been hearing any voices lately?” I nodded. “Use your words,” she said sternly. 

“Yes.”

“Anything severe?”

“No.”

“Good.” Our conversations were usually pretty bland. If you attached it to a heart monitor, it would be a flatline. 

“Daniel,” she snapped, bringing me back to the present. 

“S-sorry,” I apologised. 

“Do you think you are stable enough to leave the hospital?” she asked, giving me a therapist look that was far more fierce than Dr.Kim’s. 

“Y-yes,” I said. She always made my nerves skyrocket, and nerves meant a nervous stutter. 

“Are you sure?” I’m pretty sure it’s her job to make me doubt myself.

“Yes.”

“Alright. If that’s so, our session is over. You’ll be out tomorrow, so long as you don't have a severe episode. I nodded, thanking her quietly before leaving.

Hands in my pockets and head held low, I made my way to the waiting room. I was surprised they let me in here, but I just sat down quietly. There was a new fish that caught my attention. It was a deep grey colour, covered in deep blue spots. It swam slowly, it’s lengthy tailfin seeming to travel meters behind it’s tiny body.

“Fish are pretty neat, huh?” I jumped at the sound of the voice, turning to see it’s owner next to me.  _ When did he get there? How did I not hear him?  _ He was tallish, about 5’10, and had a deep brown beard. His eyes were an amber colour guarded by thick eyelashes and bushy eyebrows. His mustache blended with his beard, leaving a small opening for his mouth. I stared at him, still not responding. He watched the fish intensely, as if waiting for them to do something spectacular. It was like he thought if he stared long and hard enough, something great would happen.

“They just swim and swim, and that’s their purpose for life.. Just to swim.” He continued to stare at the fish, not even blinking.

“A-are y-you a patient?” I asked carefully.

“No, I’m here to visit my brother. Are you?” He asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the fish. I nodded. “Cool. Mustn't be too crazy if they let you out here. What’s the matter with ya?” He asked bluntly, carelessly. 

“I-I have sc-schizophrenia,” I said. 

“Woah. So you, like, see and hear stuff that isn’t really there?” I nodded. “That’s some cool shit, dude,” he said, turning back to the fish he was so captivated in. It was unusual to not get more of a reaction out of him, as every other time I tell someone they either feel bad for me, or think I’m a freak. I would’ve asked who his brother was, but I haven’t spoken to anyone else here. He also seemed far more interested in his aquatic friends. 

“Daniel?” I turned to see nurse Emma stood by the welcome desk. “What are you doing out here? It’s nearly dinner.”

“I was just-” I turned back to see that the man wasn’t there.  _ Where’d he go? Was he real? Did I imagine it? _ Before I could think of an answer, nurse Emma was calling me back for dinner. I sighed, standing and dragging my feet to my room to eat. 

 

* * *

 

 

You now those days where you just suddenly forget? You forget what day it is, how long it’s been, how old you are? Because I’m having one right now. How long have I been here? A week? Two? How long has it been since the accident? What day is it, Monday or Tuesday? Or is it Friday? My brain was running rampant, trying to set itself straight, when I heard a rapping on the door. It was then that I realized I had been pacing the room, my hands threaded through my hair. I laid my hands flat at my sides like a soldier and cleared my throat. 

“C-come in,” I answered shakily. Nurse Emma stepped through the door. She came in with a tray of chewy pancakes, watery eggs, and overly pulped orange juice. 

“Hi, Dan,” she said as she set the tray down. “Are you doing okay?” She asked carefully, probably noticing how my fingers were rapidly drumming against my thigh. 

“Y-yeah, just nervous about leaving,” I answered. “What day is it?” She seemed put off by my random query, but answered anyway. 

“It’s Wednesday,” she said, coming closer to me. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She placed her cold hand on my forehead, but I pulled away. It seemed weird that a nurse was acting like my mum- putting her hand on my forehead to check for a fever- but I was paranoid with everything else it didn’t matter.

“I’m certain.”

“Okay… well, I’m going to contact your parents and get your release forms sorted,” he said with a grin. I nodded and she left the room, reminding me to eat my breakfast. 

_ So, finally getting out of here? _

God, can I get rid of you for one day?!

My fingers were back to being threaded through my hair out of anger, my eyes starting to water again.  _ Why does this always have to happen? _

_ I can’t wait to get out of here. There have been too many people watching you for me to really act up. But, now that you’re back out, I’ll be able to have loads of fun, won’t I? _

No, please no. I want it to stop, I want it all to stop.

My vision was blurry, and all I could see was white. The room was white, everything in it like porcelain. The door was gone, as well as the windows. 

_ Oh, come on, you know you miss me. You’ve gotta miss hiding in bed all day, sleeping through the morning and crying all night. You’ve gotta miss having me around all the time. _

No, I don’t. I want you gone.

_ Do you really want me gone?  _

No. No, no no no. It wasn’t you, you didn’t do it.

His voice was back, invading my mind and body. His voice rang through my head as I fell to the floor. 

_ I knew you’d miss me. You missed me so much, you got yourself locked up in a mental hospital because you just couldn’t stand the thought of losing me.  _

“Th-that’s n-n-not t-true,” I mumbled out. My hands were over my ears, eyes clamped shut. I didn’t want to see him, it’ll only make it worse. 

_Don’t worry. You’ll see me soon enough_. I felt his hand on my knee, I swear I did. I swear I felt him here, talking, whispering. I felt him, I know I did. 

Tears were quickly falling, but I stayed silent. I opened my eyes and it was all back- the room, my bed, the heart monitor. I’m glad I’m not hooked up to it this time, or I would have had nurses running in, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving today. They think I only have a minor case of schizophrenia. They don’t know how serious it actually is, probably because I haven’t told them. But I’m okay. I’m okay...

After half an hour of trying to stop the tears and calm my heart, I took a deep breath. In… and out. In… and out. I got up on shaky legs and slowly moved across the room. I sat on my hard mattress, taking a sip of orange juice.  _ Wednesday. _ It’s been nine days since I got here, zero days since my last episode, and I was finally leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Good morning/afternoon/evening :) How is/was your day? Did you make nay friends? have a big test? Get a promotion? I hope something good happened. I hope you smiled, at least once. If you smile once, it was definitely a good day. And if you didn't, that's okay- you will have so many more opportunities to smile. Life isn't about the big picture- it's about the small paint strokes and pencil marks it took to make it. 
> 
> You are so important. You mean so much. Have you ever heard of the butterfly effect? I love this theory. Essentially, it's the theory that even the smallest bat of a butterflies wings can have a huge effect on the course of the world. So if a little butterflies wings would change the course of the world, what do you think you could do? What effect does your presence have? You can do so much more than you think. And if you already think you can do so much, think again- because you can do even more. There's so much you are capable of, and I know you can do it. I know you can succeed in whatever it is you want to do. And if you don't know what you want to do, do. not. worry. You have so much time to figure it out. And if you're fifty years old (if you are- hi) You still have so long. Lots of people live to be 100- you've only gone through half of your life. And if you don't do anything big or life changing, that is absolutely and completely okay. There is no rule that says you have to be president or discover a new element to be valid. You are completely valid and acceptable if you only work at a gas station your entire life. Or if you do absolutely nothing- as long as you are happy. Because the point of life is happiness.
> 
> So make that goal. If helping people makes you happy, become a doctor. Become a counselor. Become a YouTuber. Become someone who sits in a coffee shop all day just to tell people to have a good day; just to tell people they mean something, that they mean everything. Because you and everyone around you mean everything- to me and to the world. No one deserves pain. No one deserves to be unhappy. No one deserves anything but pure happiness and everything they've ever wanted. 
> 
> So remember- Deep breath in - 2 - 3 - 4 - Out - 2 - 3 - 4 - Happy thoughts - warm drink, soft blankets, small animals, that person you absolutely love - and I swear, I promise from the darkest parts of my heart, everything is going to be okay. I love you, thank you so much, and goodbye! ^-^


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

Mum picked me up with a waterfall in her eyes. The salt water stung my skin, but she hugged me tight and cried into my shoulder anyway. I went rigid as she kept crying about how much she missed me. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mum, I did. What I didn’t love was how she hugged me like she’d never see me again, and that she made a big deal out of everything, whether it was being in a mental hospital or mismatching my socks. 

“Okay, okay. Mum, can we go home?” I asked, trying to get her to let go of me. 

“Yes,” she said, pulling away and sniffling. “Yes, of course.” She took me to the car, and I was slightly surprised she didn’t buckle me in herself with how much she was babying me. I would be driving, but my infirmity makes me an unsafe driver. 

“Y-your father is sorry he couldn’t be here. He had an important meeting with a client,” mum explained once we started driving. 

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal,” I said quietly. 

“Of course it is! We’re so proud of you for getting better,” she fussed. 

“But I’m not better. Schizophrenia isn’t curable,” I said bluntly, watching signs fly by. 

“Dan, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re okay.”

“I guess,” I practically whispered.

“How about we go get some lunch, huh? Starbucks?” She said, too obviously trying to make me feel better. 

“I’m not feeling up to lunch,” I said simply, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes. 

“Oh, alright,” mum sighed. I continued to listen to the sound of cars passing and the low hum of the music playing though our broken car radio. 

When we get home I ignore my mum’s pleas to talk about the mental hospital, venturing to my room. I fall down on my bed, trying to clear my head.  _ What does he think of me? _

_ He hates you.  _

No, no he can’t, he couldn’t. 

_ But he does.  _

No, no he’d forgive me. I just have to explain myself. 

_ Like that would work.  _

Shut up!

I pulled the covers over my eyes, allowing them to slowly fall shut as my mind began to grow silent. It’s been nine days since my last episode.

 

* * *

 

 

The days following my release from the hospital were bleak and blurred together. Every action was desultory. My mum was always checking on me and asking if I was alright. My dad tried bonding with me, explaining ‘manly’ things like hunting and golf. At one point he tried to talk about my future and what I would make of it, but his authoritative voice and overwhelming words sent me into panic, resulting in an episode he didn’t know how to handle. My mum had always been around for my episodes, so when it came to my dad, he wasn’t sure what to do. 

My life was in a repeating cycle- wake up, eat, read, read, read, eat, read, read, read, eat, read play video games, read, sleep, repeat. It was all too simple and normal, and I should have known the panic wouldn’t be gone for long. 

 

* * *

 

 

After a week and two appointments with Dr.Kim, my mum had come into my room saying she had something important to tell me. 

“Dan, honey,” she said as she made her way through my bedroom door, guarded by pictures of TOP, p!atd, and MCR. She placed herself at the foot of my black duvet bed while I had my back on the wood headboard. 

“Now, I need you to promise you’ll listen to everything I have to say, okay?” I nodded. I didn’t talk much anymore, only when Dr.Kim made me or mum got too worried. 

“Okay, well, I’ve spent the last two weeks talking to people from the campground and such and…” she had a look on her face, one I’ve never seen. It was a mix of fear, excitement, and hope. “I found Phil- his full name, his parents, where they live. This way, you’ll be able to clear things up with him- find closure.” I thought about what she said- did I really want to see him again? Did I really want to confront him about my issues? But maybe it’s for the best. I wasn’t sure, but there was just something about getting lost in his ocean eyes that was like finding myself.  


 

* * *

 

 

“Dan, can you come here please?” Mum shouted from downstairs. I knew exactly what she wanted. She hadn’t told me when it would be, but at this moment I knew what I would be greeted with when I entered the lounge. I swallowed another one of my pills, even though I shouldn’t, and slowly left my room. My chest felt tight and my stomach was a swirling mess of butterflies. Or maybe bees. I held a tight grip on the railing of the stairs as I carefully slumped down every step, slowly exposing more and more of the lounge.

Our lounge was quite cozy, the with two couches, a recliner, a decorative table, a T.V., and a decorative glass case full of snow globes and other knick-knacks my mum had collected. Sat on one of the couches were Phil and his mum, his dad in the recliner. My mum and dad sat on the couch across from Phil, mum patting the spot next to her for me to sit down. I stood there for a minute, unsure and scared, before slowly walking over to my mum and sitting down. The adults all had glasses of wine, so when I sat down I took my mum’s and downed it in one gulp. She had a disappointed look on her face, but didn’t say anything about it. 

“So, I think we all know why we’re here,” she said. She sounded like an overly-chipper counselor at group therapy, trying too hard to get us to be happy. 

“I for one do need to know one thing,” Phil’s father spoke immediately and confidently. He was dressed in khakis and a black button up dress shirt. I bet their house had six bedrooms, just as Phil described his neighborhood. I bet Phil has two bedrooms, and it made me wonder if he had a secret brother under the stairs. 

“Why on earth did your son beat up my precious boy?” Phil’s mother asked for the both of them. I wanted to yell and scream already.  _ He lied! It’s his fault, he lied! _ But after thirty seconds and a few deep breathes, I spoke as calmly as I could. 

“Because I have bead trust issues, and he lied to me. I thought we had connected, but he lied to me.” I felt my blood boiling again, but I breathed some more and dug my fingernail into my palm. 

“So he deserved to have the life beat out of him? Just because he wanted to connect with you?” His mother spoke, clearly annoyed. Phil stayed silent, ocean eyes reflecting innocence. He still had a few small cuts and scars on his cheek, probably from the rocks on the ground. I simply nodded, earning a sigh from his mum and a disgusted look from his father. 

“Dan, I- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I just-”

“No,” I said. My voice was threatening but wavering; unsure but standing. It was the perfect contradiction. “No. I- I have spent four weeks remembering you. Remembering everything you said and the way you spoke. Your eyes and your steps and the tone of your voice. But most of all, the moment you lied to me.” I was sure my nail was drawing blood now as my eyes filled with tears and my body began to shake. “Could we be left alone, please?” I found myself asking. 

“Dan, are you sure?” My mum and dad exchanged an unsure look with Phil’s parents, but were soon out of the room. After a few moments, Phil stood and walked over to me as he spoke. 

“Please, Dan,  _ please _ . I am so so sorry. I didn’t know you would react that way, and even then I shouldn’t have done it. I just wanted you to like me more and have more in common.” He was now sat next to me on the couch, body turned to face me. His eyes were pleading, his lip piercing pulled between his teeth. “Please,” he said once more, hushed, as if secretive. 

“I-I’m so broken, Phil. I’m so lost and broken. I mean, look at me, I’m a mess. I-I had to go back to the psychiatric hospital l-last week.” I was about to start sobbing, I knew it.  This guy was tearing me apart, but I was going to let him. 

“That’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll get better, we can move past it.” He sounded so sure, so certain. He placed his hand on top of mine, soft and caring. 

“Y-you can’t do that again. L-lie to m-me, I-”

“Never. Never again. I’ll be honest, and careful, and I’ll love you forever.” The tears were falling now, silent but fast, a crashing waterfall silenced by pain. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t, you have no reason to be sorry,” he said, wiping away some of my tears. 

“I- I hit you,” I said. “I- I hit you a lot.”

“That’s okay. Those wounds heal.” Soon his lips were on mine, as light as his eyes and as delicate as rose petals.

“I love you,” I practically whispered as he pulled away.

“I love you, too. Far beyond the moon and back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Dan and Phil AO3 pencils! ... How are you? has your day been tolerable? The important thing is that you're alive. You have made it through yet another day, and I am so proud of you for that. People don;t get enough recognition and appreciation for simply making it through the day. So here I am to say it- I am proud of you for simply living, because I know how hard it is to just make it through another day. And even if all you did was hold yourself together, I am so so proud of you <3
> 
> So there is this rule at my school (and probably many others) that says we are not allowed to gamble. Which is very reasonable and understood. Weeell, me and my friends like to play cards in the morning before school starts. So tomorrow, we're going to get together and play poker, but instead of poker chips/money, we're going to use jelly beans :) I mean it's really not gambling, so it's okay... right? I dunno, but I thought that might be fun to hear about.
> 
> Do you like card games or board games? Let me know your favourite, as I love them. I love Monopoly, but everyone I know hates it and it makes me sad... Do you like Monopoly? 
> 
> I'm so sorry for the randomness in this haha, just trying to make conversation. That's a fun fact about me- if the conversation has come to a lull, I will start asking you random questions, like 'what's your favourite letter,' 'what'es your favourite article of clothing,' etc. So if you love answering questions, I'm the person to come to :P
> 
> Okay, I'm sorry guys, but I think that's all I've got. But always remember- Deep breaths ( 2 - 3 - 4 -), happy thoughts (Cats, food, the person you love), and I swear, you are going to be okay. I love you, thank you so so much, and goodbye! ^-^


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the end of the chapter :)

It’s been a year. It’s been a whole year since I didn’t get better. It’s been a whole 365 days, to the day, since I wouldn’t let myself love him properly. It’s been almost a year since my last _major_ episode- a whole 342 days and counting. It’s only been 36 hours since I kissed him properly; a true, tooth achingly sweet kiss. It’s been two minutes since I heard about the accident. Two minutes since I heard his mum’s choked sobs, crying, “H-he’ll be okay. I- I know he’ll be okay.” It’s been exactly sixty-five, sixty-six, sixty-seven seconds since I’ve been running like hell to the hospital. _Sixty-eight, sixty-nine, he has to be okay, I can’t lose him. Seventy-two, seventy-three, “the car hit head on- they were both going thirty miles an hour.” Seventy-six, seventy-seven, please. Seventy-nine, eighty, please, please, I need him. Eighty-two, eighty-three, I can’t live without you, Chris.  Eighty-five, eighty-six,_ I push through the double glass doors into the hospital. It smelled like window cleaner and hand sanitizer, burning my lungs. I ran to the front desk to find out where he was, how he was.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The receptionist asked. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, neat bun, her lips bright red. Her skin was flawless and her attitude kind; it comforted me.

“U-um, Ph- Phil, Phil Lester,” I panted out.

“Oh, dear, he was only admitted a few moments ago, I’m afraid you won’t be able to see him yet. You’re welcome to stay here until you’re permitted to see him,” she said with a kind and sympathetic smile. I nodded and thanked her quietly, taking a seat in the familiar hospital chairs. I sat with my elbows on my knees, head in my hands. _Please, please. I need you, Phil._

_Oh, you really think “praying” for him to be okay is going to work?_

Please, please, I can’t handle you right now.

_I’m just giving you the truth. You’re not worth his time, and he’ll probably die just to get away from you._

No, no, he loves me.

_Don’t keep lying to yourself. You know he doesn’t._

He does _._ I felt my hands shake as silent tears fell down my eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, you look like you could use a drink,” I heard the receptionist say. I looked up to see her holding a clear plastic cup of water.

“Thank you,” I managed, taking the cup. It’s been thirty-six minutes since I was denied being able to see him. I hoped to hear something, but I’d been sitting in silence.

“How are you doing?” With any other unknown individual, I would have ignored them. But her voice was comforting, eyes caring, so I managed to respond.

“I- I’ve been better…”

“What happened to your…” he trailed off, silently asking for my relation to him.

“Boyfriend,” I finished, as she didn’t seem like the homophobic type.

“What happened to him? If, you want to talk about it.”

“H-he got in a car accident- head on,” I said, my face falling.

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Her words were honest and sincere.

“I just hope he’s okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I was talking to random person, but she was so kind and helpful. She opposed every typical hospital staff member, whose voice was laced with face sympathy, while hers was genuine. I told her more about him- his day-brightening smile, his wonderful and helpful attitude, and his eyes that I got lost in. She said he sounded amazing, and I assured him he was. A few minutes after talking she apologized, telling me that her break was over. I thank her for talking and sat waiting.

                                       And waiting

                                                                                                                                And waiting

I was sure I’d never hear about him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Five hours later, Phil’s mum came into the waiting room with water eyes. I jumped up to meet her, and she hugged me tightly. Phil’s mum had become like a second mother to me, despite what happened with me and Phil. She didn’t let go when tears were streaming down her face, her breath reeling. And said to me, “he’s okay. H-he’s gonna be okay.” And for the first time that night, I really cried. I cried with choked sobs, my hand held tightly over my grinning mouth. _He’s okay. He’s gonna be okay._

The crash broke his leg, gave him some nasty bruises and, now stitched up, lacerated cuts. He broke two of his ribs, and broke his nose. It seemed too extreme and yet so mild for what happened. But either way, I didn’t care. He would be in physical therapy for a while with the damage it did to him, but he was okay. I finally got to see him, and he looked better than you’d expect someone who’d just been in a car crash to look. Even in his state, he eyes still held his life, his lips remaining fell and smooth. His skin was pale, but not much more than normal. He was covered in small cuts and bruises that plastered small bumps all over my skin.

His room was supremely similar to the first one I’d been in after my accident. The walls were sunshine yellow, as if the colour alone was enough to brighten everyones mood and make everything okay. There was an old T.V. in the corner, not quite fitting on the table it was on as it was a giant box. He had a view of the hospital ‘garden,’ which consisted of short grass, a bench, and a single dying bush. He had flowers in his room, probably from his parents. The petals were white, strokes of viola emitting from the centre and accented by a blush of yellow. This was brought out by viola petals behind the white ones, bringing it all together. His bed was like every other one, a cinderblock mattress covered with thin, baby blue sheets. The only difference was that this one had him, my Phil.

Without a word, I pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, taking his hand that still radiated the warmth his life held. After a moment of suspenseful silence, I couldn’t take it.

“You look like a dork,” I said, a small smile playing on my lips and tears welling in my eyes. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t ever do that to me again,” I said, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“I don’t plan on it,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. I don’t doubt that even on his deathbed, he would have an upbeat attitude until his last breath. Even in such a severe state, he had the sun in his eyes and will in his voice, and it was my favourite thing about him.

“I love you,” I said, a few tears falling. “I love you so much.”

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said, wiping away my tears with shaking hands. “I’m okay, I promise. It’ll be okay. I love you.” I nodded before planting a kiss on his cheek, letting my lips linger.

“Now it’s your turn to look after me, okay?” he joked, but I nodded.

“I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“Promise?” He said with his signature smirk.

“Promise. I’ll bet my life on it.”

“Don’t go playing with the value of life,” he said, putting on a serious look.

“Sorry,” I smiled, kissing him, this time a real, meaningful kiss. “Are you hungry?”

“A bit, but doesn’t hospital food suck?” He laughed.

“Maybe, maybe not. You’ll just have to wait and see.” He sighed dramatically and I laughed, kissing him again before leaving to get him something to eat.

 

* * *

 

 

The hospital was quite pristine and comfortable, instigating unwanted memories of my stay here. I shook the thoughts from my head, focusing on Phil. I walked into the cafeteria, which looked like an extremely tidy cafe. There were many people sitting around the room, most of which being young adults or teenagers. There was one boy, his eyes round and green, sat with who I presumed to be his mum. His hair was nonexistent, whether by choice or from disease I wasn’t sure. His skin was pale and pinkish, and he couldn’t be older than nine years old. He held a large smile with his lips, while his mum’s eyes held tears. He seemed so content, probably unaware of his presumably tragic state. I felt my eyes water and had to avert them, the sight making me heartbroken. Why did bad things have to happen to good people?

The rest of the people in the room were in many different states, some more severe than others. I felt out of place, being a (physically) healthy being in a room full of ones who weren’t so lucky. All their eyes seemed to be on me, either envying or loathing me. My throat tightened and caught my breath, not letting any in or out.

 _They’re all watching. They hate you. You’re so lucky and you don’t even realize it. You’re so ignorant. Why can’t you see that everyone hates you? Why do you have to be so worthless? God, you should just die. Stupid, stupid Dan._ My mouth was a desert, void of moisture and words. My back was flat to the blue wall of the cafeteria as my sweaty hands pressed against it. I felt diminutive against the rough surface of the wall, feeling like everyone's eyes were locked onto me.My wide eyes darted around the room frantically, searching to make sure so one was watching me. _They’re all watching you._ They probably thought I was a mental patient, but I wasn’t, and I wasn’t regressing back to being one. My eyes locked one the boy, whose own wide eyes were locked with mine. He gave me a curious look and tugged on his mum’s sleeve before pointing a small finger at me. My eyes widened more, if even possible. The mum looked worried, saying something to the boy before approaching a nurse. I watched them like a hawk, as if at any moment they would change their persona and attack. They nurse hurried over to me, her from becoming blurry as my eyes welled with toxic.

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I couldn’t make out her features as my eyes and mind blurred. All I could make out was her healthy weight and grey eyes. I stiffened as my hands shook and tears spilled. I shook my head vigorously, feeling my heart race.

“Can you tell me your name?” She asked. I could feel everyone's eyes burning into me, the small boy’s being the most present. I shook my head violently; I couldn’t breathe, much less speak.

“Okay, I need you to sit down, dear. Can you do that?” I fult pathetic as I used all my strength moving my shaking legs to the chair behind her.

“That’s it, good job. Now I need you to breathe,” she said, as it had only been that easy. I was gasping for air like a fish out of water, slipping from life and death, only holding on by a thread. She started counting, like how my mum always had, and everything stopped. Time froze, her mouth left open. I looked around, watching as everyone was caught in the moment. A girl in a wheelchair was in the middle of leaving the room as an older woman attached to a drip entered, both dressed in powder blue gowns. I looked back at the young boy, whose joyful grin was upside down, his wide eyes empty. His mum had tears spilling from her deep green eyes, her red lips holding a remorseful frown. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t breathing until I heard the shouting, and suddenly everything came back.

“He has a pulse, but he’s not breathing,” a strong male voice announced.

“What happened? Why isn’t he breathing?” another male voice spoke, this one younger and softer.

“Some sort of panic attack… I’m not sure what triggered it.” This was the nurse that tried to help me. Suddenly I felt something cover my mouth, and air was being forced down my throat. I took it in deeply, my eyes snapping open as I did. All the nurses and doctors let out a sigh, as if they’d all been short of breath as well.

“He’s breathing, we’ve got him back,” a southern voice sang, it’s gender undetectable.

“Dear, can you hear me?” The nurse came into view, and at the close proximity I could now see that her grey eyes held specks of green, sprinkled around her pupils and making them shimmer. I nodded slowly, my head aching from the lightheaded effect of my panic attack.

“Okay, we’re going to get you into a room and-”

“No!” I said, ripping the oxygen mask off. “I- I mean, I’m fine, this happens,” I explained.

“That’s not good, we need to examine-”

“I have schizophrenia,” I said, making everyone go quiet and stare. “A-and anxiety. Things like this happen,” I said steadily. It shouldn’t be something I’m so accustomed to, but it is.

“Are you sure? Is there anything you need?” I thought a moment before remembering Phil. _Phil. He must be worried._

“M- my b- friend, he's a patient. I came to get him food…

“I’ll help you out,dear,” the friendly nurse said, helping me stand with one hand on my arm and the other firm on my back.

“Thank you,” I said meekly. _Why do I always have to be so helpless?_

I knocked on Phil’s open door to make my presence noticed, to which Phil’s head snapped up and eyes open wide.

“Dan, oh my god, where have you been? Are you alright?”  _ Why does he seem so worried? He’s the one in the hospital. _ His eyes were pools, perfect circles with long lashes to protect them. I get lost in them for a moment before I snapped back to reality.

“Um, yeah, why?” I asked, setting his food down by him. It was lunch- the most pointless concept in existence- so he had a wrap, which looked like a salad in an old tortilla, grapes, a cookie, and milk.

“My nurse came in and asked me if I wanted something for lunch, but I told her by boyfriend was getting something for me. Then she looked worried. She asked what you looked like, and I told her. Unnaturally red hair, brown eyes, and some freckles on your cheeks.” He smiled a warm smile. He always loved my freckles. He’d count them and come up with a different number every time, then swear they vanish and reappear.

“Then she tells me that you- or someone that looked like you- had some kind of episode or panic attack. She said you collapsed, and…” he drifted off, sighing deeply.

“Hey,” I said, placing my hand on his tense and scarred one. “I’m alright. It was just a panic attack, nothing too bad. I- I collapsed, and s- stopped breathing for a minute, but-”

“Stopped breathing? Dan, that’s not okay-”

“I had a pulse,” I snapped, pausing a minute to calm myself down. “I just- I’m okay. I promise. There were just a lot of people, a-and I felt like they were all looking at me…” I looked down at the blue and white tiles and felt him intertwine his fingers with mine.

“Hey, it’s alright; as long as you’re okay,” he assured me, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing it softly.  _ God, I love his lips. _

“I love you,” I said, kissing him.

“I love you, too. Now, what did you get me?” I laughed and got his tray, feeding him even though he could do it himself. It’s been zero days since my last episode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, hia! I am so so sooo sorry this took so long to update... I'm usually a lot better at this, but I've had a lot of conflicting feelings lately and been in a bad mindset. I made some bad decisions and just haven't been my best lately, so I am very sorry for that. I know that's not really a great excuse, but yeah, tat's why this took forever :(
> 
> How are you by the way? I know I ask that in every chapter, and it probably seems routine and like I don't mean it, but I do. If I didn't care or didn't mean it, I wouldn't have bothered to type it; right? Well, PSA- I do care. I care about what you wore today, who you spoke to, how you did on that quiz, what subjects you're learning about, what music you're listening to when you're supposed to be taking notes, etc. i care that you take care of yourself, meaning drinking water, eating, and not being too harsh on yourself. I know those things can be hard- but trust me, you will get there. But it not only takes time, but it also takes effort. You have to want to get there and you have to work for it. Other wise, it may never come. You've just got to want it, and that alone can be enough for everything to get set on the right track. 
> 
> Fun Fact- I played poker today with a couple people before school, and we used jelly beans instead of chips/money, but I lost :/ It was still really fun though, 10/10 would recommend. We did have to stop early though, as school was about to start, so who knows, maybe I could have won ;)
> 
> Question of the day (I can't really call this a question of the day when I don't ask one everyday, but oh well)- If you got to go anywhere in the entire world, where would you go? Whether it be France or the UK or your backyard- where would make you the happiest? I think I might go to the UK. Not just because of Dan and Phil (But like, yeah that's part of it) But I do really like Britain and I freaking LOVE British accents (like seriously of you're British, marry me.) So yeah, I guess that's where I would go. 
> 
> Advice of the chapter- Life is too short. It's too short to turn away from the bright side of things to bask in the dark. It's too short to torture yourself with bad thoughts and not allow yourself the happiness you deserve. It's too short to not tell the person you love you love them. You've gotta just go for it. They could be the most important decisions in your life, and you can't just put them off. If you love someone, or feel a certain way about them, tell them. Because life is too damn short to torture yourself with the thought of loving them but not having them, or not loving them while they love you.  
> I loved someone once. I don't know if I was exactly "In love" with her, but I loved her. I cared about every word she had to say to the point where I wouldn't say anything- I would just listen to whatever she had to say. I cold never take my eyes off of her. I got jealous when literally anyone else had her attention. It went like this for almost a year, before I plucked up the courage and told her. I just said it. And things changed. I wont tell you how, but i can tell you I am still hooked on every word, and my eyes never leave her. And I swear, that was the most important decision in my life to this point. So you've just gotta go for it- whether it's telling someone you love them, changing your path in life, or making the choice to better yourself. It can be so important for you. Life has an expiration date- all life does, and we don't know when ours is. So we need to act like it's tomorrow. But that doesn't mean not thinking about how it might effect your future. 
> 
> Okay, I guess that's all, folks :) I hope you have an absolutely lovely day, because you are an absolutely lovely person, inside and out. I love you, thank you so much, and, until next time (which hopefully won't be in five hundred years( Goodbye! ^-^


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more notes at the end of the chapter, but I do wan't to say here that the last chapters form here on will be much shorter than the others, so yeah, that's all :)

It’s been five years. Five years since the accident. A whole 1,825 days since I haven’t let him out of my sight. It’s been 1,790 days since he finished physical therapy and was able to walk well again. It's been sixty-three days since my last major episode. It’s been sixteen hours since I’ve kissed him properly. It’s been one second since I began walking down the aisle with teary eyes to my soon-to-be husband. Two, three... Phil took my hands in his and rubbed his thumb on my hand soothingly. Four, five...

“Dan, I’ve waited my entire life to find someone like you, no matter how cliche it sounds,” Phil said with the most loving grin he’s ever held. Nine, ten… “You’re the most kind, funny, cute, and determined person I’ve ever met.” Fourteen, fifteen… “I don’t know what I would do without you. I love every little thing about you, even how you never make the bed and always forget to do the dishes.” He smiled jokingly and the people in the pews laughed. Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… My eyes were teary already, and Phil squeezed my hand for support. 

“Phil,” Twenty-four, twenty-five… “I can’t put into words how much I love you. You’ve helped me so much, and I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I said, wiping tears from my eyes. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine… “I love you so much. After every little thing we’ve been through, from the first time we met until now, I have loved you unconditionally; I always will.” Thirty-two, thirty-three… “I just,” I was choking up now, making it the perfect cliche wedding, “I love you so much.” I could see tears welling in Chris’s eyes as well, and I heard people around me sniffling. Thirty-six, thirty-seven...

“Are you ready?” The priest asked. I took us two weeks to find a priest to ordain our wedding, but we finally found a really nice man that ironically looked like Jesus to marry us. We both nodded with tears and grins. Forty, forty-one…

“Phil, do you take Dan to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Forty-three, forty-four…

“I do, I so do,” Phil said with a large grin. Forty-six, forty-seven…

“Dan, do you take Phil to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Fifty, fifty-one…

“Yes, god I do,” I said, tears of pure happiness streaming down my cheeks. Fifty-four, fifty-five…

“Okay. Dan, Phil,” the priest stated, “you may kiss.” Phil took my face in his hands and kissed he’d never get the chance to again. We both smiled into the kiss, acknowledging the happiest moment of our lives.  _ Sixty. _ Not all stories have happy endings, but mine topped any happy ending imaginable.

 

* * *

 

  
The thing about marriage is, the infatuation dies. It’s not like high school love where you’re clung to each others side every second of everyday. It’s working separately until the late hours of the night, being lucky enough to see each other for dinner. It’s not singing around the house and constant kissing. It’s small talk at night and lazy kisses before bed. It’s not going out and holding hands while wandering through shops. It’s unknowingly buying groceries while arguing about the budget, hands not even brushing past each other. It’s not cuddling and never leaving their side when you’re sick. It’s being lonely in bed and having to help yourself while they’re at work because you need the money. It’s not getting everything you want and living abundantly. It’s being frugal and giving up things, living in a cheap apartment until you can afford better. It’s the voices telling me I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve him. It’s them telling me to leave, and never come back; to die. But it’s also Phil holding me and telling me it’s going to me okay, and meaning it. It’s been four days since my last episode. It’s been thirty-six hours since I’ve kissed him properly. It’s nothing live I’d ever dreamed of, and I couldn’t have asked for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heellloooo there! So yeah, there was some tooth aching fluff for you- gotta love domestic phan. How are you doing? Eating okay? Getting enough water? How about sleep? I hope you're getting enough of all of those- I want you to stay happy and healthy.
> 
> Advice of the day- It's okay not to be happy. It is 10000% okay to not be happy. You are still valid if you aren't happy and giddy and excited twenty-four-seven. You are allowed to cry and scream and for things to go wrong. You are allowed to feel things that aren't okay. And it's okay if you do. But what I want you to remember is that, even though happiness isn't something you need to feel all the time, it is an option. You can still chose to throw everything else out the window for your own happiness. And no, that is not selfish. It is not selfish in any way shape or form to care about yourself. You are your first priority in any situation (accept maybe if someone is dying idk) If you need to just stop, because everything is getting to be too much, do it. Drop your pencil, close your laptop, turn off your phone, just stop. Go outside. Take a deep breath- In - 2 - 3 - 4- Out - 2 - 3 - 4 - Take all the time you need. Everything will still be there wen you get back. Take some time for yourself. Take some time to read, or to create something, or to sleep. Just because you didn't get out of bed or haven't built a monument doesn't mean you didn't do anything- You lived. And that is so fucking hard to do, and I am so proud of you for that- for keeping yourself here for another day so I and everyone else can be blessed with your presence. So thank you, for being here and being you. 
> 
> Question of the Day- What's your favourite kind of Phanfics? Do you like Punk/pastel? Religious/BAMF? Do you life super smutty or super fluffy? Really sad or happy or romantic? Let me know, and I could create a story with it. I am also so open to accepting promps if you have any, so don't be shy if you have an idea you want to see come to life ^-^
> 
> I guess that's all for now. The next chapter is the last, so be ready for that. I will put this at the top of the next chapter as well, but a quick trigger warning right now- The next chapter is a lot. There is mentions of hate crime/violence/death and suicide. It's pretty sad and depressing, I'm sorry, but if any of that bothers, please do not read it, I want you to stay safe. On that note, I love you, thank you oh so much, and goodbye beautiful!! ^-^


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- This chapter is a lot. There are mentions of violence/death/suicide, so pleasepleaseplease if any of that bothers you at all just do not read. Thank you! More notes at the end of the chapter. :)

It’s been twenty-two years. Twenty-two years since he found me at that dingy campground and unintentionally opened up to me. It’s been twenty-two years since i tried helping him, and twenty-one since we really saw some improvement. It’s only been sixteen years since I watched him walk down the aisle. Only 5,840 days since I saw that dazzling look in his teary eyes, and kissed him like I’d never have the chance to again. It’s been 5,903 days since his last major episode. It’s been a week since he kissed me properly. A week since I felt his lips placed so delicately on mine. I miss the feeling. It’s been a week since I got the call; his mom’s panicked voice still resonating through my mind. “Th- they got him, they hurt him. The-they sh-shot him in the stomach, they beat him up. My baby! He’s going to be okay. I know he will.” She was so convinced. It’s been a week since I started spending hours upon hours crying and screaming over him. “You said you’d stand by me! You said you’d never leave! I told you not to play death! You asshole! I love you! I fucking love you!” It’s been six days since I started blaming myself.  _ I should have gone with him. I could have protected him. Even if I couldn’t, they could have killed me, not him _ . It’s been five days since I first saw his body- lifeless, lost, dead, bruises and cuts plastered all over his body. I started crying again, his mom trying to comfort me. It’s been four days since his funeral- roses everywhere and his open casket. I didn’t want to look- I couldn’t- but I forced myself to. Even though his skin was like snow- in colour and touch- eyes closed, lips chapped and busted, all I wanted to do was kiss him. Just one last time, I wanted to tell him it would be okay, and I forgave him, even though it wasn’t his fault. I just wanted him.

It’s been three days since I ordered the gun. Two since I wrote the note. It’s for Dan; he was all I ever had to live for. _ I forgive you for breaking your promise- for leaving me. I wish you hadn’t, I wish you were here. But it’s okay, I’ll see you soon. I love you.  _ It’s been one minute since I pulled the trigger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh okay so Hi! That was the last chapter I guess. I know it was waaaaaay shorter than all the others, but I kind of wanted this part to be on it's own, ya know? 
> 
> How did you like the story? Was it too much or was it chill? Now I have a question that would be super cool if you answered (you absolutely don't have to of course) were you surprise when (spoiler) Dan ended up being the schizophrenic one and was just imagining everything wrong? Or were you just kind of like oh okay and kept reading? I'm just curious I guess :P But I do really hope you enjoyed this, it was the one I liked the most so it was nice to share with you :)
> 
> Anyway, how have you been doing? Are things calm and easygoing, or have they been hektik? I hope things haven't been too crazy- everyone needs some calm and time to relax. so if you haven't have anytime to relax and just calm down, or you're really stressed out or anxious, do it right now. Stop what you're doing accept reading this :P) Drop your pencil, close your book, and just stop. Everything will still be there when you get back. I don't care if you're cramming for a test or writing an essay due tomorrow or in a month- stop. Fold your hands out in front of you- one arm over the other horizontally. This is your space. You are completely safe here. Nothing is going to hurt you. It is just you, and I know sometimes it can be scary to be by yourself and alone, but you are okay. You are completely safe, and nothing is going to happen to you, You are okay. Now close your eyes and take some deep breaths- In - 2 - 3 - 4 - Out - 2 - 3 - 4 - And keep breathing like that until you feel more calm. You are okay. Now I want you to think about something you absolutely love to do that will calm you down or make you happy- whether it is a best friend, your partner, your pet, your favourite food, favourite activity, I want you to thin of it. Imagine it in vivid detail- what you are wearing, what they are wearing, where you are, imagine everything. And just breath. You are okay. Now open your eyes. take in where you are- slowly. Where are you sitting? What colour are the walls? Is there anyone else in the room? What are they doing? what are you wearing? Take it all in, but ever so slowly. You. Are. Okay. I promise you, everything is going to be okay. Deep breaths - happy thoughts - and everything will be okay. 
> 
> I love you, thank you so so so much for reading, I appreciate it so much, and, until next story- Goodbye! ^-^


End file.
